


andante (slowly)

by jjeuwi



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, squint for namo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 00:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12200541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjeuwi/pseuds/jjeuwi
Summary: the slow process of falling in love and coming to terms with feelings.and nayeon wants to run away from it





	andante (slowly)

**Author's Note:**

> idk where this came from,,  
> i havent written in a while but  
> i finally felt like this was good enough to post!  
> i hope u guys like it
> 
> i also recommend listening to this
> 
> https://youtu.be/ZSsxdfSMrNI

It was the beginning of Spring when the leaves rustled through Nayeon’s soft brown locks, entangling themselves in between her curls. The first sight of every morning was a fake glow in the dark star, tinted a diluted green then transparent when a ray of sun escapes through the prison like blinds.

Nayeon finds that Chaeyoung’s almost always sound asleep when she peers down from above the bunk bed, a soft hum eliciting from the breathing body. Its peaceful that way, Nayeon thinks so anyways because when the clock hits 7:30 and a disheveled Chaeyoung stumbles her way to the bathroom, Nayeon could feel almost breathless, her mind scrambling for words.

She was a mess around Chaeyoung.

 

“Don’t you think it’s interesting?” Chaeyoung’s head sways along with the trees, her eyes softly shutting. Nayeon could feel a fluttering when she does that, when she shuts her eyes and that little dimple at the side of her cheek presses itself into a dip.

“What is?” she replies, taking a short pause to examine the tiny girl’s physique. Chaeyoung’s always curious about everything, this, Nayeon finds amusing.

The Edenic garden has always been Chaeyoung’s favorite place, only now she shares this similarity with her best friend, Nayeon. The never-wilting roses overlook a small pond where koi fish and other plants take form. It’s Chaeyoung’s favorite because there are roses, in which Nayeon thinks it’s the most basic flower to love but Chaeyoung lists reasons why.

She claims that on the night her father passed, he left three thick stems of roses at the foot of her bed. That was reason number one. Reason number two came to be that Mina loved the color red on her, that was before they parted ways, passing it off as that they simply “weren’t meant to be.”

But the entire fifth floor of the dormitory could hear the exchanged argument between the two. Mina and Chaeyoung shared the dorm at the very end of the hall which pretty much was like a cul de sac. It acted like a megaphone for the two. Mina’s screams could be heard bouncing wall to wall, intruding into the other’s rooms. But that was before they declared the status of not being meant for each other and before Mina requested her stay as Chaeyoung’s roommate to come to a clear cut end.

 

“How we can both hate and love someone at the same time,” Chaeyoung says in a matter-of-fact voice and Nayeon knows she’s talking about Mina. What Nayeon finds interesting isn't the fact that a person is capable of feeling two things at once, it’s the fact that Chaeyoung couldn’t handle feeling only one.

When Nayeon first met Chaeyoung she had just been fresh out of high school. The younger was a lot more reserved than she typically is now, only because out of all people, her guide became her best friend. Nayeon was originally part of a Freshman Introduction Camp club where she interned as a guide for all the incoming students. Chaeyoung, along with a few other girls, were her test subjects for that summer. That was two years ago, now they’re dorming together in a tiny spaced room, a bunk bed and a mini fridge in the corner.

Jeongyeon barges in the room without knocking, a tall, short haired, doe-eyed girl who became Nayeon’s on again off again one night stand (or rather, her ten night stand).

"Mina’s in the infirmary,” there’s a tinge of concern in her voice, which was an unfamiliar sound to Nayeon. Nayeon’s eyes shift to Chaeyoung who’s trying to keep busy by studying a lecture given by Jeongyeon’s dad, Professor Yoo of the English department. Jeongyeon’s brows furrow as she turns to look at the older, Nayeon only returns the confused expression by shrugging.

When Nayeon wakes up in the middle of the night, Chaeyoung’s rhythmical breathing is nonexistent, the same old sound of silence rises in the tiny bunker. She decides maybe getting a breath of fresh air would be a good idea since sleep couldn’t come whenever Chaeyoung’s gone.

But she’s looking for her.

That breath of fresh air is and will always be only Chaeyoung.

In the infirmary came the beeping of several machines and IV needles pierced into fresh, plump skin. That’s where she sees Chaeyoung at the edge of the bed, holding Mina’s almost lifeless, fragile hand.

Nayeon takes a while before she enters. She takes a long silence before racking her brain for something noteworthy to say, something that wouldn’t intrude Chaeyoung’s apparent sorrow as her forehead presses against the edge of her lover’s hospital bed.

“Chaeyoung,” is the only thing she could mutter out after several seconds. Chaeyoung meant comfort for her. Meant happiness, meant sadness. With Chaeyoung she feels everything.

_Does she feel that way too?_

She’s met with Chaeyoung’s red eyes, Chaeyoung’s sleepless eyes which she presumed, cried their way into the infirmary. Nayeon’s instincts were almost always right and she hated that about herself. Her stomach sinks at the sight, the regret that pooled up around the red rims of her eyes made Nayeon want to die. Made Nayeon want to kiss away the tears, hug her to sleep and tell her everything is alright. But she’s just a friend.

Can friends do that?

Her steps are heavy when she makes her way to Chaeyoung, her heart grows even heavier when the words, “What do I do? I still love her,” come out of those soft lips, in her quivering, quaking voice.

_“What do I do? I still love her.”_

Nayeon doesn’t know what to say, because there isn’t much to say. What do you say when you’re in love with your best friend and your best friend is still in love with someone else?

“I know,” she keeps her voice from shaking, digging her nails in the palms of her closed fists, “I’m sure she does too.”

There’s the beauty of being in love when you hear the butterflies in your stomach and feel the birds sing, outwardly, inwardly. But more than the stars and the skies, being in love is ugly too. Nayeon feels this for the hundredth time in two years.

There can’t be a happy ending if you’re not happy.

 

She walks Chaeyoung back to the dorm early in the morning, just before the sun rises into a new dawn.

“She overdosed,” Chaeyoung says, trying to keep herself grounded as they reach the door.

Nayeon was seventeen when she first got high. There were two reasons for that. One of them was Momo. Momo was Nayeon’s first love, the epitome of perfection in her naive eyes. When she first met Momo, she remembers finding the girl tucked away in the spines of books at the library, tracing her fingers back and forth against the old leather. Nayeon had sworn that Momo would be her first and her last. She whispered this as Momo kissed her neck, kissed her shoulder and then her taut lips.

The taste of nicotine and weed.

Nayeon had kissed those bitter lips ten times before they disappeared. It only took one for her to get addicted.

The withdrawal drew her towards addiction, towards Chaeyoung. Nayeon was high when she first moved in with the short, quiet girl. She wasn’t sure if Chaeyoung could tell, but if she could, it didn’t seem like she minded. Or maybe it was better to shield herself from the truth than confront it with honesty.

Chaeyoung hated confrontation. She hated this when she realized that she just couldn’t love Mina anymore. When Nayeon had asked why, the quiet, reserved girl merely shrugged.

“I just can’t love her anymore.”

 

“They’re transferring Mina to a bigger hospital as soon as her parents get here,” she runs her fingers through her short wispy hair.

Nayeon realizes why.

“It was cocaine.”

Chaeyoung just can’t love Mina when she’s high. When she’s talking nonsense about some other girl she had met at Jeongyeon’s party, calling her by someone else’s name. And as intimate as Chaeyoung wanted to be, Mina was almost never sober when her mouth’s tightly pressed up against Chaeyoung’s, rugged and rough.

 

“Do you miss her?” Nayeon asks, bench pressed against her bed. The only light in the room came from the dull green glow in the dark star.

“Yeah,” Chaeyoung replies, deep and raspy, “don’t you ever miss someone so much it just kinda feels like you’re dying?”

All the time.

Nayeon feels it all the time, when Chaeyoung’s asleep, when Chaeyoung’s looking into her eyes from across the room, silently telling her she misses her.

“No,” she lies, shaking her head as if the girl could see from below. She lies. That way she wouldn’t have to admit it. Because admitting it would mean defeat, and Nayeon hated losing.

But she’s losing.

She’s losing herself in Chaeyoung when the girl asks if she could sleep with her tonight, arms bound tightly around Nayeon’s waist. Nayeon couldn’t sleep that night. Because it felt like Chaeyoung was finally hers. In her dreams she could see red roses. Red roses in Chaeyoung’s hands, her hand in Chaeyoung’s hand. Then Mina. Mina from across the room, waving to Chaeyoung.

She lets go.

When Nayeon wakes up, the bed is cold and Chaeyoung’s nowhere to be seen. If she couldn’t feel any emptier now, then she must be dreaming. But she isn't. She feels even emptier when Jeongyeon explains that Chaeyoung had followed Mina to the hospital.

“Hey,” Jeongyeon says, stopping Nayeon from her tracks, “are you sure you’re okay?”

She sighs, sitting on the edge of Chaeyoung’s half-made bed, finally admitting defeat, “No.” “

You love her don’t you?” The words are piercing when they come out of Jeongyeon’s mouth, short and quiet just like Chaeyoung. There’s silence. “I see the way you look at her,” Jeongyeon says, “you love her don’t you?”

Ultimately it’s the things you love in this world that make you want to leave it.

 

When Chaeyoung comes back, days later, the tiny room is empty. This time it’s Nayeon that’s nowhere to be seen. Her bed was left unmade, the sink still running, the glow in the dark star dying, dying, gone.

The timing was always off. Nayeon was always too late or too early, always there or never at all. Today she was too late, today she was never there at all.

 

“What is it that you hate about me?” Chaeyoung asks, teetering at the edge of her toes, arms out for balance.

“Hate?” Nayeon tilts her head, watching the girl bounce from heel to toe, “I hate that you never see me when I’m here, but always only when I’m gone.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t know what that means but she doesn’t bother asking why.

Today she wonders why.

 

Today she wonders where Nayeon is, because for the first time in a while, she notices her. She notices the empty mold, the empty presence, the tiny bunker, dead and silent, dead and lifeless.

“I think the best part of having you around is that you always find a way to make me happy,” Nayeon’s voice is tinted with sadness, though the meaning of her words were in opposition.

She had a habit of turning things sad. Nayeon, despite being the seamlessly optimistic and cheerful girl, always, somehow, managed to turn everything gloomy. Perhaps it was her voice, perhaps it was the way she said things that made her seem lonely.

It was only now that Chaeyoung realizes that smiles don’t always mean happiness, optimism isn't always positivity. It was only now that Chaeyoung sees her. She sees her legs dangling at the edge of her bed, swinging simultaneously, telling her she wanted real stars. Not the fake glow in the dark that she was used to. She sees her from across the room, managing something under her breath, _I miss you_.

 _I miss you too_.

Chaeyoung’s sorry for being late, for not being there at all.

“She loved you,” Jeongyeon’s voice echoes in the tiny, empty room, “She told me.”

If Chaeyoung’s world didn’t stop when she realized Nayeon was gone, then it surely did when she realized her best friend was in love with her. Her best friend was in love with her when she talked about loving another girl, when she cried on someone else’s hospital bed, holding someone else’s hand.

How could she have not known?

It was obvious. It was obvious when Nayeon sang her to sleep whenever sleep wouldn’t come. It was obvious when she held her, so hard. When she yelled with her eyes, across the room, I _love you so much_.

 _I love you so much_.

 

Chaeyoung’s running down the street, Nayeon’s letter clutched in hand.

‘I’m sorry, I just loved you too much.’

The tears don’t stop flowing, they don’t stop crashing, red around the rims, red like the roses Nayeon left on her bed for the last time.

_I couldn’t stop thinking about you._

 

“I just can’t stop thinking about you,” Nayeon feels her cheeks flush as she looks at her reflection in the mirror. She heaves a heavy sigh, shoulders falling short when she realizes she couldn’t do it. Chaeyoung watches from afar, a nervous Nayeon, clueless of her presence. Her habit of saying things under her breath never disappeared, even as she lay so close to Chaeyoung, skin to skin, no space in between.

_If there’s a way to stop missing you, I haven’t found it yet._

 

Chaeyoung’s lungs burn as she crosses the darkened sky, city streetlights, green and red, green and yellow. The letter’s crumpled in her hand tightly, feet running on empty, she heaves over, winded. There’s a short silence when she looks up, her ragged breaths falling short when she sees Nayeon across the street, on her way back. On her way back to Chaeyoung, red roses in her hands.

 _I’m sorry_.

Green and red. Stop and go. Nayeon watches a breathless Chaeyoung from across the street, sobbing silently.

 _I’m coming home_.

Nayeon steps off the sidewalk, steps off of Chaeyoung’s vision for a second and never returns as her body collides with a ten foot tall semi-truck. There’s an ad on the truck that reads:

‘It’s never too late.’

The flowers fall in the air, every petal floating as Nayeon’s body touches the cold concrete. They fall with her. Red like the blood. Red like the roses Chaeyoung loved. For a moment she sees nothing, for a moment everyone’s standing still, Nayeon lying just before she falls unconscious, managing something underneath her breath.

 _I love you so much_.

 

“Don’t you think it’s interesting?” Nayeon asks, approximately three centimeters away from Chaeyoung. They lay on her bed, top bunk, first hand look at Nayeon’s collective sky of fake glow in the dark stars.

“What is?” Chaeyoung mutters, watching the sun escape through the blinds, planting it’s rays on Nayeon’s sky.

“The real stars are outside yet we spend so much of our time watching the fake ones,” she shuts her eyes, talking like the world knew nothing about time and space.

“Do you think that maybe it’s not the sky I’m trying to enjoy?” Chaeyoung pauses for a second, her breathing changing, her beating changing.

“Then what?” Nayeon peeks over, eyes meeting Chaeyoung’s, universes colliding.

“You.”

 

Chaeyoung watches a crowd pool around Nayeon’s lifeless body, the sirens loud, flashing bright red, red like her favorite roses. The tears don’t come, she stands and watches them bring her home, hauling her body into the back of an empty ambulance.

 

“I’m coming home!” Nayeon’s enlightened voice pierces through Chaeyoung’s phone speakers.

Home. She loved it the most when Nayeon called her home, called the places they shared together, home. Whenever Nayeon arrived home, she would always bring a dozen of something. Somedays a dozen donuts was what she had carried from town to town, other days it was a dozen paper cranes, each hand crafted, one by one by Nayeon.

Today it was a dozen eggs.

“I wanted to bake you a cake,” she says, the same cheerful tone, the same gloomy voice, “but I thought it’d be better if we baked it together.”

Chaeyoung loved her. Chaeyoung had loved her before she even knew. Before she even realized what her heart was trying to say. Chaeyoung didn’t know she was in love with Nayeon.

She didn’t know until she was gone. Until the room sat empty, unoccupied by her favorite presence, until she got home and home was no longer home. Until they buried her best friend, her other half, six feet under, piles of dirt and a dozen roses above.

 

‘In loving memory of Im Nayeon’

 

Engraved, etched in stone.

 

With tears in her eyes, one last time, under her breath just like she used to do,

 

_I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> i love you, onces.


End file.
